Huh? Are they all real?.

The sacred text sewn inside the trench coat began to burn fiercely, and the old duke's screams rang out.

However, soon, more people appeared beside the Duke.

Their bodies were contorted and varied in shape, and their screams completely drowned out the old duke's.

These people were all objects through which the Duke became the transference of evil spirits.

They are the ones the Duke cannot bypass if he wants forgiveness and redemption.

So Moen set fire to the Holy Scriptures, using even more horrific punishments to atone for the Duke's sins.

Just as Moen had predicted.

The shadows' wails slowly turned into hearty laughter.

The resentment and unease that the old duke needed to become an evil spirit were transferred onto them.

Then, as long as their resentment is released and their souls find peace.

Evil spirits would naturally cease to exist.

The trench coat burned to ashes.

The old duke, the shadows, and the faded reality have all vanished.

Only the tranquil night of Qazadoom remains.

After glancing up at the bright moon, Moen took out his pocket watch.

Now another thing is confirmed—the pocket watch is indeed on his side.

There will be another chapter in a moment

Chapter 133 A Perfect Performance (4k)

Moen clearly remembered that he was sent there by the pocket watch shortly after El left.

Just like when the dwarves got into trouble last time, he was sent to the relevant Bahrain.

This time, when Baratheon got into trouble, he was sent directly to Constellation Westeros's side.

He even happened to overhear what the other person said.

At the same time, he could see Constance, which was clearly also due to the help of the pocket watch.

Just as if he could see the souls of the time travelers.

And it's unclear whether it was an accident or if it was genuine.

Moen always felt that with each time he traveled through time, the pocket watch was sending him to the right place with increasing precision and power.

The pocket watch still ticked away as always.

After looking at it for a short while, Moen smiled and continued to place the pocket watch on his chest as a breast protector.

As the saying goes, make the best use of everything.

If the pocket watch were a true friend, it would surely be happy to help.

If the pocket watch is actually the enemy, then wouldn't it be even better to use it to defend against sniper shots?!

perfect!

Although it was late at night, the Southern Territory was different from the capital; there was no strict curfew like in the capital.

Even the hunters who follow the sound are all to be sent back to the capital.

For example, right now, Moen is walking towards the dock.

According to El's intelligence, the Sound Hunters from the Southern Territory will return to the capital by airship tomorrow.

On the surface, this was El's request, but in reality, it was the Empress's request.

The Queen ordered the Sound Hunters to be sent back to Ireland, citing the reason that the Southern Territory did not need the Empire's minions.

It was all for Mr. Potter.

Ansa wanted to meet this first witness in person.

Moen happened to be able to ride back with them on their airship.

With a slight turn of the Ring, Moen moved silently through the heavily guarded southern docks.

He watched as the Southern Knight walked right past him without reacting at all.

Moen sighed once again:

"Level 0 sealed artifacts are so useful!"

And so, Moen walked directly into the airship of the Sound Hunters.

Because the Southern Territory's Overwatch Council is practically useless, there aren't many Sound Hunters here; a medium-sized airship is more than enough to accommodate them.

Therefore, Moen found Mr. Potter's room without much effort.

As the silver swindler and the core of this incident.

Mr. Potter has his own separate room.

After confirming that it was indeed the room, Moen knocked on Mr. Potter's door.

'I hope Mr. Potter isn't frightened by his own actions.'

Meanwhile, in the room.

Mr. Potter was pacing restlessly back and forth in the room.

He couldn't understand what was going on. He also couldn't see what his future held.

That person must be Lord Trajan, there's no doubt about it, right?

But why was he sent back to the capital by the new Grand Duke under these circumstances?

That's practically suicide!

Knowing the actual situation, Ayl simply sent Potter back as the Queen had requested.

Anyway, the Queen won't do anything to Mr. Potter.

But Potter was unaware of these things, and his status was so low that even if he wanted to ask, he couldn't find anyone to inquire about what was going on.

The only thing that made him feel fortunate was that, apart from the Golden Eagle of Boris, his other colleagues really knew nothing.

This gave Porter a glimmer of hope.

Does that mean you haven't been discovered by anyone yet?!

After thinking it over, Mr. Potter decided to go ask the Golden Eagle of Polis again.

He had tried before, but ever since the Golden Eagle of Boris met the lords of the Southern Territory that day, it had been in a daze.

His mouth was full of:

'How did I get myself into this mess?' 'Oh my god, how could this happen?' 'This world must have gone mad!'

They simply cannot communicate properly.

It was at this moment that someone knocked on the door.

"Who?"

Mr. Potter didn't pay much attention.

He simply asked a question and then opened the door.

Upon opening the door, Mr. Potter froze on the spot, as if struck by lightning.

"Hello, Mr. Potter Harry."

Upon seeing that familiar face, Mr. Potter's legs immediately went weak.

If he hadn't reacted quickly and grabbed the door frame, he probably would have really fallen down.

"You, you, you, you, you!"

In utter astonishment, Mr. Potter managed to utter five "you"s in a row, unable to finish the sentence.

"Without a doubt, it is me, Mr. Potter."

Seeing Moen walk forward, Mr. Potter hurriedly stepped aside, but in doing so, he ended up collapsing into a seat.

"Please close the door."

Upon hearing this, Mr. Potter, who was struggling to stand up while holding onto the doorknob, hurriedly got up without even bothering to get up.

He quickly knelt down and closed the door.

Seeing him like this, Moen said helplessly:

"Mr. Potter, is there any need to be so afraid?"

I'm not some cannibalistic monster.

Moen's words only made things worse; Mr. Potter, who had almost stood up, collapsed again due to his weak legs.

"No, no, no, you, you, you..."

“Mr. Potter, take a deep breath, a few deep breaths. That will help you relax.”

It's unclear whether Moen's suggestion worked or if Potter dared not ignore it.

In short, after taking a few deep breaths, Mr. Potter was finally able to stand up normally.

My calves are still trembling.

"What are you doing here, sir?"

Moen smiled and said:

“You’re going back to the capital tomorrow, and I happened to be going there too, so I came straight here.”

"But, but, but you, you shouldn't."

"Relax and don't overthink it. I'm just going to the capital."

"By the way, you should know who I am now, right?"

Mr. Potter nodded subconsciously and said:

"I know, you are... no, no, I don't know, I don't know who you are."

Moen chuckled:

"Then you know."

This was just something Moon said casually, but Mr. Potter was so frightened that he knelt on the ground, crying and shouting:

"My lord, my lord, I really don't know, please, I really don't know!"

This reaction was completely unexpected by Moen, and after a brief moment of surprise...

Moen also sighed deeply.

Potter Harry was just an ordinary person; in their words, he was just a nobody who would die and no one would care.

But this tiny nobody managed to squeeze between the two behemoths, the Southern Territory and the Queen, all because of his own actions.

In his eyes, this was probably the most desperate and helpless moment of his life.

His antics stemmed solely from his desire to survive.

It's just an ordinary person's instinct to survive.

"terribly sorry."

A simple, casual remark silenced the entire room.

Mr. Potter was stunned and forgot to cry.

what?

What did I just hear?

"Sir, what did you say?"

“I’m sorry, Mr. Potter.”